


high off you

by Anonymous



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, pre-timeskip but claude is 18, slight internalized homophobia for balthus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:08:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26037682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: so i wrote this months ago in response to a fe3h kinkmeme prompt but forgot about it until now and i can't find the original post. Basically it was like: balthus gets drunk and wants to fuck claude in a dress bc he looks like his super hot mom. hopefully i did it justice, i probably got sidetracked from the whole 'claude in a dress' thing but it's there loltitle from 'high off you' by lil noodle
Relationships: Balthazar von Adalbrecht | Balthus von Albrecht/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34
Collections: Anonymous





	high off you

Surprisingly, it was the moment that Balthus saw the familiar face appear in the open doorway of the Wilting Rose Inn that he knew he had made a mistake. He had expected to have that same realization tonight, of course, but much later when Yuri was propping him up in the alley outside as he puked his guts out—key-word being later, any embarrassing mistake strictly between him and the stained brick-wall outside. But now, catching the green eyes that sparked an old fire within him and watching the low candlelight dance across tan skin, beautiful, soft, chestnut hair, and pink, clever lips twisted in a teasing smile, he thought, _damn_ , this was a mistake.

Apparently there was an obvious enough shift in his expression because Yuri instantly frowned and turned to follow his gaze. Hapi and Constance were oblivious, caught up in an argument over the rules of the new card-game Linhardt had given them.

Before Yuri could fix his discerning gaze on Balthus, he quickly stood and lifted one broad hand. “Hey, pal!” he called out, his gruff voice just as friendly as ever. Perhaps a bit more, considering the alcohol still thick in his blood. “Come join us, yeah?”

“I saw you but assumed it was Ashen Wolves-only since I didn’t get an invite,” Claude von Riegan said but nevertheless began moving toward their table. “People don’t seem to be too friendly toward us surface-dwellers here—oh, should I pull up a chair?”

Balthus was sure he still possessed a grain of impulse control somewhere but it appeared to be very distant at this moment. His thoughts had been set free by the alcohol and threatened to spill out of his mouth if he so much as opened it—which is why he sat down once more and patted the top of his thigh before starting to say, "Sit here! As long as you stick by me, I’ll keep you safe, Tia—”

A sharp kick against his shin silenced him with a wince and Balthus scowled at Yuri, who had fixed the bigger man with a glare of his own as he shook his head with only the slightest motion. Luckily, Claude had not noticed—unluckily, it was because he was giving Balthus a strange look, eyebrows knit together. Not quite disgust, but not as far from it as Balthus would like. A wave of shame spread through him, causing pinpricks of heat against his flushed skin.

“We’ve been drinking,” Yuri said flatly. “Thought it best not to invite any of you from the Academy since the Professor is awfully protective over his students. Don’t think he’d appreciate the Ashen Wolves corrupting the monastery’s nobles.”

“No, probably not,” Claude agreed. “As for me, well—I’ve already been corrupted.” That clever smile flashed again and Balthus felt desire flood straight to his cock. Gods, he looked so much like her but that smile especially…it coaxed some deep, visceral reaction from him that he’d learned as a boy, so desperate to earn Tiana’s praise. He had looked up to her when he was younger and his infatuation had been largely innocent, lacking the knowledge that came with maturity. But now he was grown and his fantasies were based on experience, which meant he knew exactly what he wanted Claude to do to his cock, as if he was Tiana herself—everything about him such a perfect tribute to her commanding beauty. If only his hair were longer, worn down his shoulders as she had once worn her’s, Balthus was sure he would feel as though she stood before him again, as young as she had once been—younger even.

And it was at this thought, as Balthus was reminded of Claude’s inexperienced age despite his supreme capability both on and off the battlefield, that he considered for the first time—one more time than he’d ever thought he would—just how inexperienced Claude actually was. At the back of his mind, another thought rose. And then all semblance of thinking disappeared, likely for the foreseeable future, because Claude had just taken a seat. The seat Balthus had offered to him, more specifically.

The younger man was a light presence on his leg, barely more than Hapi or Constance weighed, but every moment he lingered, the weight on his thigh grew heavier. He had chosen to angle his legs inward, so his right leg was mere inches from resting against the front of his pants. The anticipation as Claude’s knee moved closer only to pull away again made his palms sweat lightly.

“You don’t mind, right?” Claude finally asked, after what felt like an eternity of struggling to keep his heated palms on the table instead of tangled in this man’s hair and clothes. “You _did_ offer.”

“No complaints here, pal,” he managed to choke out. It felt like the rest of his body was burning up, now, and he had to fight the impulse to readjust in his chair. Fuck, what was happening to him? He was not attracted to the incredibly suspicious Riegan heir—even if his mother had been Balthus’ first crush. And look, maybe it was fucked-up, but Balthus would have easily taken Tiana’s daughter to bed, delighted in learning a body so similar to her’s and tasting what she tasted like. Only it was not a daughter he had met in Abyss but a son, which complicated matters more than slightly. “Yuri,” he said, a roughness in his voice. He cleared his throat and continued. “Yuri, more beer.”

The trickster rolled his eyes but Balthus knew he had matched him drink for drink up to this point. Abyss had recently contracted a new liquor supplier and the rise in quality had been steep; as such, the Ashen Wolves had spent most nights this week getting drunk off the suddenly-expansive selection of fine wines, ale, and hard liquor.

“Sharksbreath, I’m assuming,” he said as he stood. “And for the Duke?”

“No thanks.” Claude said. “No offense, but I don’t exactly know you guys and Abyss doesn’t seem like a great place to wander at night. Besides, I can’t have any of you prying any secrets out of me.”

“If you’re worried about Yuri-bird slipping something in your drink, you should be,” Hapi said as she fought off a yawn, turning away from Constance, who had not yet noticed she was no longer listening. “You can finish mine, if you like.”

“Well, if you’re sure…” She nodded and pushed the glass toward him, which he briefly rose to his feet to grasp, leaning over the table. Which happened to unavoidably draw Balthus’ attention to his ass. The tight black pants he wore accentuated his slender legs, graceful like a woman’s, and when Claude leaned back, his ass brushed against the inside of Balthus’s thigh and he immediately felt his body tense. He willed himself not to get hard. That would be difficult to explain.

“Did you hear me, you two?” Constance interjected, her face slightly red—likely from her over-passionate rambling as much as the alcohol. “I have successfully determined the reasoning behind the game’s mechanics.”

“No, you haven’t,” Hapi said at the same time that Claude said, “What game?”

Balthus had barely even been paying attention to what the two girls were doing but he groaned along with Hapi as Constance fixed her beady stare on Claude and opened her mouth. The wildness in her eyes now was precisely the opposite of her behavior in the sunlight. “The game,” she repeated. “The game your friend told us to play. He says it has become quite popular above but—” the words grew pained, “there are no instructions.”

“What do you mean?” Claude prompted. Balthus almost grabbed his thigh to silence him but as soon as his hand stirred, his confidence failed.

“He gave us a card-deck, only the faces keep shifting. They never stay the same and each person sees a different image. I have been trying to figure out what it is enchanted with but more importantly, why was it enchanted at all? Why?” Her voice surged once more. “But I understand now…of course, it was so simple!” Their table was momentarily surrounded by her high laughter. “It is a test of superiority!”

Yuri reappeared, holding an overflowing flagon of beer in each hand. “Thanks, man,” Balthus said when he pushed one his way. The foamy white goodness, worlds apart from the usual cheap swill they had down here, momentarily captured his full attention. Constance’s voice faded as he wrapped his hand around the cold metal and raised it to his mouth. Once he’d taken a deep pull, he noticed that some had sloshed over the side and landed on Claude’s leg. Evidently, he was a step behind because when he looked up, Claude was already staring at him, his mouth parted slightly. “Look what you did,” he murmured in a low voice. The braid against his cheek softened the sharpness of his features in the dim light and something clenched deep in Balthus’ gut. Did the little fucker know what he was doing? It was feeling more like he was acting this way on purpose, trying to provoke something from Balthus…which made practically no sense since Claude had shown little to no interest in him, especially since he had cornered him over his true identity. Yet here he was, nearly in his lap with barely any prodding, tongue sliding over his bottom lip as those sparkling green eyes fixed Balthus with a look of flirtatious assessment.

Well, hot damn. If he wasn’t mistaken, the future Duke Riegan was a bit of a slut.

“…So you see, the three cards I drew all shifted into Queens when I took them in my hand. But when Hapi drew her three, they shifted to lower-value cards, just as Yuri’s did. Therefore I must understand this as evidence for my greater abilities. Though I suppose it could be tested against others…Balthus?” It was less of a question and more of a command but he still shook his head firmly—fuck no. She pouted.

“Why three?” Claude pressed.

“Well, I had to impose some order!” she exclaimed. “It was completely arbitrary before!”

“Right—obviously.” he said, the mocking smile and lightness in his voice somewhat at odds. “Suffice it to say, I am very impressed with your analytical skills, Constance.”

She preened underneath the compliment, a soft red tinging her cheeks.

He continued. “But unfortunately, I happen to know the true intentions behind this little invention. Would you like to know?”

“Wha—” she spluttered, cutting herself off with a wide-eyed look. “Seiros’ tits—out with it then, pretty boy!”

Balthus was thoroughly entertained to see the brief look of shock pass across Claude’s features. Fuckin’ good. He should be uncomfortable—Balthus was in charge, here, not him. But of course, the infuriating bastard recovered quick as lightning. Or more appropriately, he thought, watching those green eyes, like a cat that always lands on its feet.

Claude rose gracefully, crossing to where Constance sat. He extended a slender arm, calloused hand offered palm-up. “May I?” he asked. For a moment, she appeared so flustered that words would not come but then she huffed and quickly pressed the cards into his waiting hand.

“Thank you,” he said politely as he drew the top card—one of Constance’s three Queens. “Ah, yes,” he said, narrowing his eyes as he held it up for everyone to see. “I see this Queen of Hearts was originally a six of Clubs. Interesting, but irrelevant—the suits and numbers are just a disguise for what’s underneath.”

“Which is?” Yuri was unamused, one eyebrow quirked skeptically. Unbidden, he wondered if Yuri was jealous. Before he could even decide of _what_ exactly, he was pushing the thought away. He tried to avoid getting involved in Yuri’s personal life since their incident.

Claude flicked the card twice with his index finger—and hold up, were his nails painted? Someone spoke in the background but Balthus didn’t register it; he was too busy imagining those pretty fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Balthus?”

He jerked slightly in his seat, eyes shooting to where Claude stood. He was looking at him expectantly. “Can you repeat that?” Balthus asked, eyes raking over the shorter man, so proud and self-satisfied. Hmm.

“Sure. You remember when Linhardt told you and I about his Crest research involving personality traits?”

This was a very difficult question. Balthus had rarely listened to his teachers in school, with exceptions in rare cases that they looked like the Professor. So whenever the eccentric, dainty Linhardt had shared his research with them, Balthus tried his best to pay attention. But naturally his attention wandered, as it was prone to do—as was happening right now, he realized. 

Hoping Claude wouldn’t call his bluff, he nodded. “Yeah, real interesting stuff.”

Claude bit back a smile. “You remember what ‘N’ stood for?”

To be honest, he was getting real tired of being jerked around by Claude. He was already drunk—getting drunker—and his patience was thinner than normal. He thought it might have been pure spite that allowed him to recall the memory, there and then. “Neuroticism’,” he said confidently.

“Mhmm. Constance,” he said, turning back to her, “You scored very highly in the ‘neuroticism’ dimension, it appears.”

“Wait a sec, Claudester,” Hapi said, speaking up for the first time in a few minutes. She had a way of fading into the background until it was easy to forget she was there. “This sounds like a lot of bullshit. Linny did this?”

“Yup. All part of his Crest research—something about how personality may influence Crests or vice versa.” Claude started picking through the deck as he talked. “The enchanted cards allowed him to classify personality without the margin of error in self-reported data. And I believe he said something about it giving him more time to nap.”

“Are you looking for my cards?” she asked, watching his hands.

He smiled without looking up. “Yes, and—here we go!” This time, Balthus saw what happened after Claude flicked the card; a glowing letter appeared in the middle for a moment before vanishing. “According to this, you score high in the ‘extraversion’ dimension and low in ‘agreeableness.’ That sound about right?”

“Huh,” she said. “Interesting. I guess I’d rather he’d have just asked first.”

“Well, we can’t have it all,” Claude said. “Yuri, care to go? Balthus?” Those green eye turned on him.

“Afraid not, friend. Can’t have you prying any secrets out of me,” Yuri said coolly.

“Yeah, that’s a pass for me, too.” Balthus said.

Claude simply shrugged, returning the cards to Constance. Before he could reach him, however, Balthus stood up abruptly, making the younger man halt. “Going to the bar,” he said. “Come with?”

“If you insist,” he answered, eyeing him.

“Oh, I do.” He flashed a grin and walked away without a second glance, assuming the man would follow. 

After that, his memory was hazy. The gist was, he got really drunk. So did Yuri and Constance. It was down to Hapi and Claude to take care of them. And if Balthus thought it had been bad before, it soon became much, much worse. 

When they collectively made their way to the exit, he kept near the back with Claude. After the others had slipped through the door but before Claude could move to join them, Balthus grabbed the back of his coat and held him firmly in place. The door shut with a heavy thud and Claude turned on him, irritation twisted up in that sardonic smile of his. He didn’t have the chance to speak before Balthus used the grip he still had on his coat to yank him closer and roughly press their mouths together.

He tasted surprisingly good, like something sweet and fruity. Distantly, he recalled him and Hapi drinking some kind of juice but he forgot again as soon as Claude’s mouth parted beneath his, allowing his tongue to slip in. Even though he was aware of their significant size difference, he was not gentle as he marked his claim. When he was done, he stepped back, dropping all contact from him. “Are you staying in Abyss?

“You tell me,” Claude said and his eyes flashed, torn between thick desire and lingering frustration. Balthus’ vision went blurry for one long second, loosening the outlines of the person before him. All he could see was piercing green eyes, those glistening, pink lips and soft brown hair, braided…

He fixed him with his most authoritative stare. “Tonight, you are,” he said. And then, a near-whisper, slipping from his lips: “Tiana…” If Claude heard the name that escaped him, he showed no sign of it, only bit his lip and beckoned for Balthus to follow him out the door.

As they moved from the alleyway outside the Inn to the alley outside the dorms, and finally to his room, there was rarely a moment Balthus lifted his mouth from Claude’s. One such moment came when they entered the tunnel where the light was lowest and Balthus pulled back to steal a long look at the person currently pressed against his erection. An effort in vain, for he never made it past Claude’s eyes; his lashes were long and thick, almost as though he’d coated them as the court ladies did, and in the dark with his breathing hard and heavy because of Balthus, the usual teasing in his eyes took on a completely different meaning. His breath was hot in the space between them. “Why’d you stop?”

“You’re pretty,” he said unthinkingly. A moment later he swore inwardly.

Claude, however, looked delighted. “Just for you, Baltie,” he said, his voice raspier than it’d been earlier. “I promise I’ll look extra-pretty on your bed.”

He swore outwardly at that.

By the time they were inside, he could feel a persistent cramp in his back from bending so low. He ignored it by pushing Claude up against the wall. “Don’t move,” he warned and then moved to the trunk beside the sparse bed. Him and Yuri had once shared a room but not anymore; Balthus had been hurt when Yuri told him but now he was fairly sure he’d never been more grateful in his life. When he rose, he was holding a familiar green garment in his hand. “Such a pretty girl should be dressed appropriately,” he murmured as he pushed the fabric against Claude’s chest. “Put this on for me.”

He may have been wasted but that didn’t mean he’d forgotten everything about the outside world—this was an unusual request. But frankly, he gave less than a fuck right now and if Claude scoffed or shook it off, Balthus would rip that Officers’ Academy uniform right off him and shove the dress on himself—unless of course Claude put a halt to everything this moment, in which case there would be no shoving anyone around tonight. But once again, Claude surprised him; he smirked but said nothing as those nimble fingers quickly undid the ties of his thin top.

“You’re in luck, _pal_ ,” he said, teasing as ever. Briefly, he disappeared as his shirt came up and over his head, and then he was shirtless and grinning cockily, his sweet curls a mess Balthus needed to get his hands on. “I always dress appropriately.”

Before he could question what that meant, Claude was proceeding to step out of his pants and then Balthus saw exactly what he was referring to—instead of the briefs Balthus would have expected, Claude was wearing something sheer, lacy, and black. He was wearing women's underwear. The thought repeated in Balthus’ head like those awful yet catchy prayer hymns the Church taught.

Claude's cock was half-hard through the fabric and a surprising jolt in his gut had him imagining what it’d feel like in his mouth. It disappeared a moment later, a sudden, unexpected anger rising in its place. When he spoke, his voice was harsher than he intended. “Am I supposed to be impressed? Put the dress on.”

Something sharp flashed in Claude’s eyes but he complied. The green embroidered cloth had come to him from Yuri. He had kept it from a past lover, he had told Balthus, and more than once, had worn it for him to coax him into agreeing with whatever Yuri required—usually just his muscle as back-up. It was a modest garment for the most part, only it was far, far too short to wear in public; it had been for Yuri, just as it was—he saw with satisfaction—for Claude.

“Happy?” he said, gesturing wide. His tone had hardened.

“Not yet, princess,” Balthus murmured, grasping the younger’s waist and easily pushing him onto the bed. The old wood creaked pitifully. As Claude’s eyes traveled over the expansive figure Balthus made, his expression softened. Balthus couldn’t help but smirk as he shrugged his long overcoat off. “Well—how’d I fill out?”

Claude rolled his eyes. “Decent.”

“Decent?” he repeated incredulously as he unwound the chains usually wrapped around his neck and torso. Again, he couldn’t repress the smirk at Claude’s bemused expression—kid had a lot to learn about things down here. “That’s all?”

“You know I didn’t actually know you then—” he started and then abruptly fell silent. Balthus had forced his wrists together and now began to wind the chains around them, effectively restraining his arms. When he finished, he put one broad hand on Claude’s chest and pushed. As he scrambled backwards, Balthus mounted the bed, keeping one hand on the chain lying beside him. He would usually loop the extra length around the bed but Claude was inexperienced so he left it loose. Worst came to worst, he would not be so restrained that he was unable to flee. And of course, this way Balthus could move him just the way he wanted.

“So, is this what the chains are for?” Claude murmurs. “I’ve been wondering.”

Balthus laughed, warmth flooding his chest and mixing with his arousal. It made his limbs feel even looser, almost light as air. “Not exactly, but a smart man never lets anything go to waste, yeah?”

The man pinned beneath him cocked his head, as though he was still in a place to ask questions. Balthus had no desire to talk about the symbol of dishonor common in Abyss, even to explain it, so he yanked the chain forward, bringing Claude along with it.

He let out a heavy huff and fixed Balthus with his deep stare but otherwise, said nothing. That was good enough for him. Balthus kissed him roughly before flipping him over, suppressing the warmth in his chest that rose from Claude’s surprised grunt. Without wasting time, he pulled the dress up, hiking it up Claude’s back and exposing his ass. He’d leave the dress on, of course, but the panties had to go.

When he slipped his fingers beneath the lace and tugged down, Claude moaned softly—an aborted, low noise. He was overwhelmed with the urge to taste it against his lips, lick into his mouth hungrily, but he only pushed Claude’s face deeper into the mattress and slapped his ass. A hand slipped into his pocket to withdraw the oil he had grabbed earlier when he removed the dress. 

As if he knew, Claude turned around, pushing against him in a way that was purposely teasing. “Wait,” he said. Balthus should put his dick between those pretty lips; maybe that would finally show Claude he doesn’t get a fucking say—he gets what he’s given. “Let me,” he added. And then, once more, all thought vanished because Claude had put his hand against Balthus’s straining dick. He readjusted, moving closer until he could easily lean over the other’s lap.

Balthus didn’t wait for further prompting; he pulled his belt loose and tossed it aside, moving to unbutton his pants but Claude’s deft hands pushed him away. “Let me,” he repeated, and those pretty, painted fingertips popped the button holding his pants together. Then, slowly and watching him the entire time, Claude pulled them down, allowing him to step out of them, before pressing his lips against the hard bulge visible through his smalls.

In that moment, Balthus only felt the heat and pressure against him, allowing it to carry him away—groaning back, he pushed into the warm mouth caressing him. Before he could do it himself, calloused fingertips brushed against his hips as Claude divested him of his last small piece of clothing. Balthus was fine. 

Before Claude could do anything that provoked him further, Balthus quickly shoved two fingers against his mouth, insistently pushing them inside. Claude let him in after a moment, moving his mouth forward to take them even deeper. Balthus growled. He thrust his fingers in further and would have done more if Claude had not chosen that exact moment to slip down lower, out of reach, as his fingers finally closed around the tip of his cock.

He nearly gasped but thankfully repressed it with a mere grunt, eyeing the young man by his knees. Claude shot him a messy grin before pulling his mouth away from his fingers and dragging it to where his own fingers stroked, replacing them in one fell sweep—rather, one fell gulp.

" _Fuck_ ,” Balthus exclaimed, the word escaping him before he even registered his mouth was open.

“Mmph,” Claude said, whose mouth was rather full at the moment. He pulled off the tip for a moment to murmur, “You taste good,” and then he pushed back onto Balthus’s cock, taking it deeper than before.

Balthus felt his eyelids flicker. He groaned appreciatively, tangling his fingers in the other’s hair, enjoying the leverage it gave him. Occasionally, he’d hold his head down deep even as he tried to pull away. Claude’s delicious whimpers when he did so made it difficult to avoid. His tongue lapped around his cock, his mouth not quite half-way down his dick. Gradually, he relaxed his throat and took him deeper; Balthus felt him force the tight walls down to accommodate him and groaned.

“That’s it,” he muttered, using his grip in the other’s hair to push his head down and force his dick all the way in. “So pretty.”

It was almost unbelievable how arousing Claude’s answering murmur was, the pleased sound stirring something in his chest. Balthus could almost believe Claude enjoyed this—which was unexpected. It made that same warmth from earlier begin throbbing in his chest.

Claude’s nimble fingers, despite their restricted movement, somehow ended up fondling his balls while he deepthroated him before he pulled up slightly and proceeded to lick up his admittedly large cock, opening his eyes to fix Balthus with a heavy-lidded stare. After a minute of that treatment, he hollowed his cheeks and took him whole once again, bobbing up and down in a way that sent his lone braid swinging in the air. 

Balthus was going to come down his throat within a minute if he continued giving his dick this premier treatment. It had been awhile since he’d been with a man and damn, maybe he’d missed it more than he realized. “Claude,” he said and when he didn’t stop, he groaned louder, “ _Claude_. Baby, you gotta stop.” The endearment slipped out unintentionally but it wasn’t unheard of─Balthus had definite class with the ladies and something about pet names seemed to drive them wild. It almost appeared to have the same effect on Claude, who withdrew from his cock with a loud squelch and grinned─an actual, unadulterated grin.

“Mmm, wonder what else I can coax from you if I keep going?” he purred, licking his puffy lips.

“Well, I’m definitely going to come, for one thing,” he said and Goddess-be-damned the younger man bit his lip coyly and lowered himself back to the head of Balthus’ cock. “Woah, firecracker, hold up. How am I gonna fuck you once I come down your throat?”

Claude’s face had betrayed no hint of emotion as Balthus pushed him back but now he grinned again, rolling over to lie besides him. “I’d say that was your problem but I don’t really want to miss out. Give it to me good, daddy.”

“Oh, fuck,” he murmured, pushing the dress back up to Claude’s waist and watching his dripping, red cock come into view. Down here, his tan skin was smooth and unmarked by the scars that covered his upper body. Without thinking, he lowered his mouth to suck gentle marks into his thighs. When Claude moaned, he sucked harder before pulling back and fisting his dick. “Can I use magic on you, baby?” he asked, doing his best attempt at a serious voice when all he wanted was to bury his dick in Claude’s pretty hole. 

That definitely caught his attention. “Oh? I thought your area of expertise was healing magic, not…” he trailed off, looking down at both of their bodies.

Balthus smirked. “Well, I’ve been around for a bit. Picked up a few things. Can I show you?”

“I’m all yours,” he said, giving him a wink and spreading his thighs further. His bound wrists were relaxed over his head. Damn, if he wasn’t a full course meal.

“It’s a lubrication and prep spell, all wrapped up in one,” he said, raising his hands and then pausing once more, but once Claude nodded, he finished casting it. Immediately, Claude gasped and writhed on the bed, his mouth parting in surprise and what looked to be pleasure.

“Oh, _fuck_ , Balthus,” he panted, “That feels amazing. What the fuck? How come I didn’t know _this_?”

“It’s not the kind of thing Rhea or the Church teaches,” he said wryly and then guided his cock to Claude’s now stretched-and-slippery entrance. “Ready, pretty boy?”

“Mhmm,” he moaned. “So glad you finally figured out I’m not a girl.”

Balthus didn’t quite know what to do with that, faltering slightly once his cock head was inside but then Claude wrapped his ankles around his waist and urged him forward—damn, that archer had serious leg muscles—and he promptly chose to move on and focus on more pressing matters, like fucking Claude into oblivion. He started off with deep, slow thrusts but Claude’s constant urging had him getting progressively rougher, until he lifted one of Claude’s legs and threw it over his shoulder, lowering himself even more in the process so the stretch wouldn’t be uncomfortable for him.

“Fuck, yes, right there. You’re so good, Balthus,” he moaned. As he twitched around his cock, he slipped lower and let Balthus sink in even deeper. Balthus let out a groan of his own as he felt Claude tighten around him, and Claude smirked up at him and curled one calloused yet gentle palm around his shoulder. “You know…” he started, perfectly innocent, “you could choke me, if you wanted.”

It wasn’t that much of an unusual request in bed, plenty of girls had offered something similar, but still, Balthus was taken aback that the future Duke Riegan wanted a man twice his size to cut off his air supply. “Yeah?” he said but it was less of a question and more of a provocation. “Okay, baby.” And with that he brought his large palm—so much bigger against Claude’s slender frame—against his throat and gently squeezed. He wasn’t into prolonged suffocation, just wasn’t his thing, but a good, long squeeze, enough that Claude made a cracked, half-gasp, was just what he needed. With a final thrust, he came hard inside of him, biting down on his shoulder to keep from moaning. He knew he was drunk and that was more than certainly clouding his judgement and emotions, but oh, he came so hard that he knew he’d be jerking off to this memory for months to come. It spread out from his groin, filling every part of him with an electric warmth that lasted so much longer than his typical jerk-off—or even partnered—orgasm. 

When he finally came down, he was tempted to collapse on top of Claude but knew that would be hardly appreciated given their size differences, not to mention, this hook-up felt different than a we’re-drunk-you’re-hot kind of deal. Did he want to talk? Balthus pulled back, ready for whatever Claude wanted, when he noticed that Claude’s eyes were still half-lidded, his mouth was slightly parted, and a glance down south revealed his dick was as hard and leaking as ever. “What,” Claude said, flicking open his eyes to watch Balthus, “you thought I came on your dick alone?”

“I do tend to flatter myself,” Balthus agreed before smirking at Claude and lifting his eyebrows suggestively. “Let me fix that.” And without thinking anymore, he pushed himself down the length of the bed, settling between Claude’s tanned thighs. The chain, practically forgotten, was by his side and just to keep the younger man on his toes, Balthus gave it a tug, forcing a moan from above. Before Claude could say anything more, he swallowed his entire cock in his mouth and that really did wonders in shutting him up.

He was tempted to utter Claude’s words from earlier (you taste good) just to get a rise out of him but he could feel how achingly aroused he was and took pity on the young man. But fuck, he did taste good, somehow both salty and sweet at the same time. Claude wasn’t as big as him and reluctant as Balthus was to admit it, he did have a fair amount of practice doing this very same thing on someone else in Abyss. With that in mind, he was able to take Claude to the base, applying just enough pressure so that when he let up, sucking gently to the very tip, Claude was right on the verge of coming.

“Fuck, yes. I’m so close, right there…” he moaned something unintelliglble once more before coming down Balthus’ throat in thick, hot spurts. It was surprisingly not bad, and Balthus made sure to lick him clean before pulling off his now-soft dick and collapsing, once more, beside him.

Claude turned to him after a minute and even without looking at him, Balthus could practically feel the sly grin he wore. Inwardly, he groaned. Couldn’t he just let him just enjoy this moment of peace without scheming?

“So,” Claude said, “You’re going to keep the truth about my past out of your mouth now, right? If you don't, I’ll be forced to let it slip the mighty Grappling King likes to fuck boys in dresses…”

Balthus groaned, throwing him an exasperated glare from his firm position on the pillow. “You don’t have to be like that, Claude.”

“I like to be on the safe side. You were too smart for your own good, Balthus,” the young man said, his smile betraying the slightest hint of smugness, as if he had not been getting pounded into the mattress and nearly crying just a few minutes ago. “While I’m at it, let’s quit the talk about boning my mom, yeah?”

Balthus nodded mutely, feeling very much like he had taken a wrong turn somewhere in this conversation.

“Don’t look so sad!” Claude said, laughing. “You can still have the next best thing—if you’re good, that is. Maybe I’ll even tell you my real name so you can moan that around my cock next time.” With that he winked and effortlessly rose, despite the sore muscles he must already be feeling. He slipped out of the dress and redressed quickly before heading for the door, leaving Balthus sweaty and naked on the sheets. "See ya around, Baltie," he called back once he was out of sight. 

“What the fuck just happened…?” Balthus wondered aloud.

**Author's Note:**

> Sometime next week:  
> "So, Balthus, you always so eager to get into a guy's pants after a few beers?" Claude teased.
> 
> "That's not fair," Balthus protested. "I don't usually drink that much. It was only because the tavern changed suppliers..."  
> "And who," he asked with a satisfied smile, "do you think found the new provider?"


End file.
